


encourage you in ways

by mydearmoon



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25415707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydearmoon/pseuds/mydearmoon
Summary: Post Season 3.Beth is good at what she does. Rio shows up, too.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 13
Kudos: 213





	encourage you in ways

At the end of each week, Beth returns to the store after her children have gone to bed. She puts on her blue-light filtering glasses (an impulse buy after getting bombarded with Instagram ads), turns on the computer, places her ledger binder neatly to the right of the keyboard, and takes out her favorite black ink pen.She examines their sales, spendings, and carefully, carefully, carefully adjusts the numbers _just right_.It’s precision and routine, and she loves it.

It’s been a few months now since Boland Bubbles has been in operation, and things are going well. Like really, _really_ well. Even if one takes away the more criminal aspects behind the spa store, it’s still a _very_ impressive business. They’ve been legitimately profitable the last few months, even. How many can say that about a new business that’s less than six months old?

And it’s because of Beth. Dean might boast a longer resume than her own, has the college degree that she never earned —but it is thanks to _her_ decision marking and _her_ business savvy that Boland Bubbles has actually made a name for itself in the area.

Okay, she’s a little hard on Dean. He can make a sale fine enough, when it’s laid out and guaranteed. Can Dean sell a hot tub? Sure.

But Beth sells an _experience_. Indecisive shoppers fall in love with the scenes she paints and make their purchases with happy confidence. A hot tub isn’t just a hot tub, it’s an escape to get away from any expectations, to forget about deadlines and to-do lists, all worries be damned. And Beth is _good_ at it.

The success of the business itself is that much sweeter when she considers how it’s part of a larger, less legal, but _very_ lucrative system.

Unfortunately for Beth, her husband still sees himself as being in the driver’s seat of Boland Bubbles, with her sitting prettily passenger side. Oblivious to what’s going on, Dean chalks her fruitful decision making to beginner’s luck and chance.

Letting Dean continue to believe he’s in charge is frustrating, but it is an easy way to distract him from the _real_ work with Rio. So Beth bites her tongue and keeps an agreeable smile on her lips.

But once a week, Beth sits alone in the office and allows herself to feel fuckin’ proud of it all. She built this. _She built this._

And this has been a _good_ week. She sings happily to herself as she types the last few numbers into a spreadsheet, and handwrites a _different_ set of numbers in her paper ledger. She takes off her glasses and places them besides the late night pizza she picked up on the way, which sits alongside a bottle of wine. These are perhaps a more silly part of her routine, but she looks forward to these weekly sessions and the late night vices have become a bit of a reward.

She’s finished her work and is about to help herself to a slice when a light knock coming from _inside_ startles her.

Wildly she reels back, eyes frantic and hands grasping for anything that might be used as a weapon. She quickly spots the intruder who is leaning casually against a doorframe.

It’s Rio, looking a little too smug at having entered unnoticed, and looking a little too comfortable at being in her office.

Her body remains tense and she lets out a curt, “What the _fuck_ are you doing in here.”

In the first month or so of their business arrangement, Rio would regularly check in on her work, nearly daily. It was irritating, having him look over her shoulder and scrutinize each move. Beth is _smart_ , and she absolutely hated how Dean would question her business sense in the daytime, only for Rio to question her in the night.

But after awhile, Rio seemed satisfied with her work, even trusting her to make the right calls on her own. His check-ins became less and less frequent, to the point where now, he actually waits for Beth’s text to set up a meeting. Even those only occur every other week, so to see him right now is unexpected, even unwelcome. 

Rio’s lips curl up into an easy smirk as he slides into office, dropping into the empty chair across from her.

“Am I interruptin’ something?”

Beth ignores his question and clenches her jaw, “We didn't schedule a meeting tonight.”

But Rio can pretend to not hear what she’s saying, too.

“I’m starvin’,” he announces, taking a peek inside the pizza box. “Huh. Hawaiian. Didn’t think you’d be into that.” Rio helps himself to slice and checks a notification on his phone.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Beth can’t help but ask.

Rio barely gives her a glance. “All I’m sayin’ is you seem like the plain cheese pizza type.” He must find his remark funny, because he chuckles to himself and takes a large bite.

Beth’s irritation with him grows and in a move she knows is passive aggressive, closes the pizza box shut with a ‘humph!’ and moves it out of his reach.

Rio either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice, because he takes another bite and eyes the bottle of wine.

“Thought you don’t like wine,” he points out, mouth full. 

“I don’t drink rosé,” Beth corrects him with a huff. “This is a _Riesling_ and it goes _great_ with Hawaiian pizza.” 

Rio tilts his head to the side, sizing her up. She refuses to let herself feel bothered by his focused gaze, so Beth sits up a little straighter, shoulders pulled back, and stares right back. Finally, Rio rubs his chin and lets out a long, “ _Shiiiit_. Didn’t know you were such a wine connoisseur.” 

His eyes, typically dark and serious, are now bright. His usual sharp tone now holds amusement. He’s teasing her and she knows it, but Beth still finds herself fighting a blush that threatens to fall over her. 

“I’m not. I Googled it,” she admits primly, eyes steady.

The simple confession elicits a deep laugh from Rio, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle shut and he throws his head back, exposing the thin inked lines on his neck. 

She’d never tell him and if anyone asked her, she’d deny it profusely.But she really likes his laugh and she really, _really_ likes his tattoo. 

Beth bites her lip to hide her smile, and tries to ignore the warmth that is starting to glow over her. 

* * *

Three pizza slices later, it remains unclear why Rio decided to stop by the office this evening, and it’s even more confusing to see him acting so…normal. He even asked Beth for a glass (he made a face when what he received was a red plastic cup) and poured himself some wine. 

This moment is strange and confusing and frustrating and yet, somehow _comfortable_ and _nice_. If any nosy passerby were to peek through the store windows, they’d spot a very unusual pair. Rio’s typical dark button-down shirt and black jeans is all about clean lines and order, making for a stark contrast to the soft, fuzzy lilac sweater that Beth wears, paired with her favorite well-worn leggings. 

The contradictions very much reflect the partnership they’ve arrived at.

For the last few months, there has been no mention of _lung_ , _shoulder_ , _spleen_. The whole thing with Fitzpatrick, completely dropped, gone and forgotten just as quickly as it had started. 

And it’s better this way. Rio doesn’t seem interested in an apology, and Beth doesn’t seek forgiveness. She wouldn’t even claim to be sorry for any of it, in the same way that she’s not sure if he has any lingering anger. By now, the events are just a part of their very complicated history. These are the facts: he kidnapped her, she shot him, he survived, she hired a hitman, and now they are back to working together. 

If there’s anything she’s learned these past few years, it’s that regret and guilt get you nowhere. 

So she refuses to feel any of it. 

* * *

When the wine is finished, they get into the bourbon that Beth keeps stored away in the closet. The conversation between them could only be described as shooting the shit. It’s a strange evening, but she wills herself to not think too much of it. Rio’s actually being sort of pleasant, and this is some really good bourbon. 

Beth is drunk and she’s pretty sure Rio is, too. His body, typically attentive and composed, is all liquid and loose. He slouches down low in the vinyl office chair, resting his head against the backrest. 

Beth, on the other hand, is exceptionally focused on remaining proper and in control. She folds her hands neatly in front of her and counts her breaths in, counts her breaths out. 

“I need to go home,” she eventually declares.

Rio scoots up in his seat and eyes her skeptically, “You drivin’?” 

Her tongue feels fuzzy and her brain isn’t faring much better, so she gives a shake of her head. 

“I’ll get a Lyft,” she decides while reaching for her phone. 

Beth feels a pause in the air. 

“C’mon, Elizabeth,” Rio draws out her name slowly across his lips. “Last call.” 

She rolls her eyes, but fuck it. If this evening wants to be weird, let it be weird. 

She pours a bit more bourbon into both their cups. She raises her cup to him, but instead of making a toast, she asks him plainly, “Why are you here?”

Rio shrugs and meets his cup to hers. “Too quiet at home.” His answer is brief and not at all informative, but his tone lets Beth know that’s as much as he’s willing to divulge right now. 

Yet it’s enough, she thinks. She’s surprised he was willing to even admit that much to her. And she knows what he means, so she gives him a quiet nod and they drink in understanding. 

* * *

At some point, Rio suggests that she show him the numbers and moves to stand on her side of the desk. Beth might be more than a little inebriated, but she also takes great delight in talking about what she does. And why shouldn’t she puff and preen a little? It’s not like she gets that many chances to show off, even Ruby and Annie tend to get restless when she really starts getting into the details. 

_It’s the alcohol,_ she tells herself, as she describes the last few weeks and what she’s got planned ahead, in a voice that is just a little too loud, a little too high. When she finishes her impromptu business presentation, she is acutely aware of the big smile that has appeared on her face. She is flustered to see that Rio wears a slight smile of his own. 

“Anyway,” she concludes, softer this time. “I’m good at this.” 

There. The secret pride she’s harbored has been revealed. Now that she’s silent, the space between them feels heavy and loud. Beth feels exposed, even embarrassed. 

She doesn’t have much time to think about it, because Rio lifts a hand and brushes her hair out of her face. How long has it been since they’ve shared this moment? Beth wonders how a touch can feel both foreign and familiar.

Rio lets his fingers trail to her chin and lingers there, the contact of his fingertips feels hot against her skin. She wants to speak, but even more, wants this moment to last just a little longer.

He leans in close and speaks assuredly, “I knew you would be.” 

* * *

It’s when she’s gasping and naked, arched over the desk, with her panties tossed aside and Rio is thrusting deep within her, his eyes focused and driven, their hips rolling against each other, that she suddenly remembers Dean’s question from a lifetime ago. 

“ _Does he, like, listen to you more, or you know, encourage you in ways that I don’t?”_

And it’s when Rio suddenly changes course and pulls out in one excruciating move, only to distract her protests with a well placed tongue to her clit, and she’s fucking _floating_ that she knows her answer then was only partly true. 

It’s the sex _and_ the encouragement. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am convinced that Rio is proud of the boss bitch that Beth has turned into, even considering the murder attempts. 😆


End file.
